My Fault
by TheKittyPaw
Summary: Brittana One-shot, set during "Original Song", following the events just efter "Dirt Locker". Brittany's thoughts and actions on the aftermath of "Hurt Locker" and "Dirt Locker" and her thoughts on Brittana/Bartie. Angsty/hurt fluff.


**Brittana Ficlet.**

_Set during "Original song"_

My fault

"I don't ever remember putting it there" I said, covered in dirt, my mouth tasting like rot and soil. It was disgusting. I hoped that my joke would make Santana cheer up, like she usually did, but instead she just looked at me as if I was crazy. I looked down at myself, my shirt and pants. They were totally ruined, and the same with hers. Once again I was lost in thoughts as I tried to assess the damage to her clothes. As I looked up and saw that she had caught me staring at her, my cheeks flushed a deep red, but luckily the dirt on my face covered it. She turned to walk away, but I caught her by the wrist.

"Let me go, Britt" she said through gritted teeth, looking at me with what was undoubtedly supposed to be anger. The way her brows furrowed upwards though revealed the sadness behind them. It took everything for me, not to throw Artie from my mind, grab Santana and kiss her, right there. But it would be wrong. I knew that I had cheated on Artie, I always knew, but I couldn't cheat on him. Cheating on him wasn't cheating in my mind, because to me Santana was more than just a person. She was an inevitable part of me, and it hurt like hell. I knew that I couldn't hug her or kiss her anymore. She had confessed what I'd longed to hear for years, and now, I had broken her heart. I wanted to be her everything. I wanted it so bad, but she was nowhere near ready; and Artie. He made me happy, I think. I loved him, but I think I always have. I didn't get why he'd said that about me never talking to him. He was always so sweet and funny, but he never seemed to notice me as anything other than the ditsy cheerleader. I hated that. Then, I took my own stupid advise and took his virginity. I mean, how dumb can one person be, right? I knew that I'd always be his soft spot. He made me happy, but the only soft spot I wanted to be, was Santana's. It sounds crazy but I wanted to be the one to break down the walls with no force at all. I wanted to be her vulnerability. But in a way, it made sense, right? If I was her only vulnerability, and I would never hurt her, then she'd never get sad. But she was vulnerable about so many things, and I had hurt her. All of these thoughts, these considerations seemed to come tumbling down on me within the few seconds that I held her wrist. Her eyes were pleading now. I should let her go, she didn't deserve all of this, and I was being too selfish. But I wanted to be selfish, with her. I wanted her to myself, and with that thought I tugged at her wrist.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up. You still have an extra set of clothes at my place." I said, dragging her along. For someone who was so pleading to have me release her, she didn't give me much resistance. I lived really close, just behind the school, down the street, across it and then down a road. It took like 2 minutes to walk home.

She spoke no words, but followed me, her arm hanging limply in my grip. She stopped me when I was about to cross the street though, tugging me back as a car came thundering past us. Her she didn't look at me, merely at the ground, as I made sure to watch for cars before walking across the street.

The home was deserted, not even Lord Tubbington was around. I let go of Santana, half expecting her to make a run for it at first chance, but she stayed where she was, silently studying the cardboard floors of our hallway.

I took her hand in mine before leading her to the bathroom, leaving her there while I went to get her clothes from my spare drawer. I didn't know if it matched very well, but at least it wasn't covered in dirt.

When I walked in, she was attempting to remove the dirt from her neck, but she couldn't really get it off.

"Stop, let me" I said, taking a washing cloth and rinsed before rubbing soap into it. She looked tentatively at me, as I placed the cloth on her neck and began cleaning it carefully. She sighed and let herself slump against the sink, closing her eyes. I knew that she could smell my fragrance and that the hand I had placed on the other side of her neck to keep her steady, made her skin burn. I could feel it through the tingles in my fingers. I knew that we had lunch break now, so I had time enough to get all of the dirt from her neck. Making sure that she was still relaxed, I let the cloth rub across her collarbone, nearing her cleavage. I felt her gasp as the contact and she looked up at me, her eyes glassy. I smiled warmly at her, making her tan skin tint on her cheeks. Even though we hadn't kissed or anything, this was so intimate. It was like I tried to clean the hurt from her, more than the dirt. I stood there, rinsing every few minutes, cleaning her neck and her face. I had moved my hand above her heart, and I felt it drum fast, like that of a hummingbird.

She sighed again, as I removed the cloth, grabbing the towel, to dry her cheek. The wetness on her cheek was only partly from my cloth. The rest was tears. I knew that she hated crying, and I knew that I was the cause. It killed me.

"Please…" she said, looking up at me. I knew that she pleaded for me, not to do anything but to be something. She pleaded for me to be hers. I didn't want to go back behind the veil we had been hiding behind, whenever we'd been together before. If I was to be hers, I wanted to be hers, out and proud. I didn't care what people said. I just wanted her.

Once again, guilt shot through me, as my thoughts landed on Artie. I had led him to believe that I was in love with him, and I think on some level that I was. But there was a difference between loving someone and being in love with them. I loved Artie, and I loved what we had, but I don't think I was ever as in love with him as he was with me. I enjoyed his company; I liked having someone who thought I was great. I knew that Santana loved me, but she never showed it publically; not to a romantic extend anyway. But I was in love with Santana, and she with me. But I couldn't break his heart, I couldn't stand up to the fact that she had cheated on him, break his heart. It just wasn't right.

I was so lost in thought that I hadn't noticed that Santana had taken the cloth from me and rinsed it. I gasped and jerked back to reality when the cool soapy cloth stroked gently across my jawline, working down. I felt Santana place a hand on my shoulder, smiling sadly up at me.

"You look like you were attacked by a chocolate cake" she noticed with the slightest hint of humor in her eyes. I smiled crookedly, suddenly feeling her hand move from the part of my shoulder that was covered in clothes, to the one that wasn't. My skin prickled and smoldered beneath her touch. Her breath was getting heavier, as she continued to was, never looking me in the eye. When she reached my cleavage I shivered visibly and almost all of me wanted her to continue downwards, to the part of my body which was also covered in dirt, but which was off limits to her now. She removed the cloth to rinse it, and dried the now clean skin with the soft towel. Carefully she washed my face her eyes flickering between both of mine. I gulped and bit down on my lip. I wished that there was no fabric between us, that it was her cleaning hand that traced the contours of my face; that it wasn't the cloth that washed across my lips. Suddenly, it wasn't. Her thumb ran over my lips. Then it wasn't her thumb, but her lips. Her perfect round full lips were on mine for the shorter of a second. I leaned forwards to harden the kiss, but the lips were gone. She looked down at the ground, and began shaking with sobs. I took her in my arms and cooed in her ear, as warm tears ran down her cheeks into the crook of my neck in which she had buried her face. I kissed her hair and felt her shudder.

"I don't know what I'm doing, Britt…" She mumbled in a high-pitched voice. "I didn't mean to … I just… I'm not ready… But I … I can't live without you. I'm so scared Britt. I don't think I could bear to lose you. You're my best friend. I don't want anything to ruin that, but I have. I have ruined it Britt. I'm… So sorry. I should never have said anything, I should have… I did this, Britt" she sobbed.

"Santana, look at me" I said softly. She nodded against my neck and released her grip on me, looking up into my eyes. Her beautiful brown orbs were scared but calmed at my gaze. I knew her every reaction to me, as if it was me reacting to myself. I knew that my eyes were her favorite thing, that looking into my eyes calmed her.

"You. Did. Nothing. Wrong" I said with calm force. "You said everything I had always dreamt of hearing. I did this to you, I made you lose control; but we're best friends. You'll never lose me, not in a million years. You can't do anything that would ever cause me to leave you. I know you're not ready and I will wait. Sweetie, we are more than best friends, and I… When you're ready, I'll still be here. But I meant what I said about Artie. I can't hurt him like that. I can't tell him that I've been cheating on him for the better part of our relationship, I can't tell him that I don't love him the way that he loves me… I just can't" I said, shivering. She took my hand.

"I know Britt. I know. You said that you'd wait for me forever right? So will I. Maybe our time will be here, maybe someday. But for now, you have a boyfriend. I'm so sorry for kissing you; I don't know what I was thinking. I just, I needed you to know that I still love you, and that I will wait forever for you. I just, I wish it wasn't like this, you know? It hurts so bad… It feels like I don't have a heart anymore, but I don't think it was ever mine" she said, blushing deeply. I loved how she had always told me that she never blushed because she was ethnic, but I managed to make her anyway. I took our twined hands and placed them over her heart, pressing my palm against the back of her hand, making her feel the flutter in her own heart.

"You have a heart, Santana. I think you might have the biggest heart I've ever seen." I said truthfully. I didn't care that she was rude, or that she always hated people without knowing them, because I knew that she would go past that, whenever she let someone under her skin.

Take Kurt for example. She truly thought he was the most annoying thing on earth, after Rachel of course, and that he was too out and proud. But the minute he became my friend, she stopped back talking him and drew the rudeness to a minimum. Now, she actually liked the guy, looked up to him for being all out and proud. She envied him. Despite her initial thoughts, she was now, in lack of better words, her friend.

She didn't answer.

"Britt, break is over in fifteen minutes, we have to hurry. Is it okay if I wash up here?" she asked, her voice unreadable.

"Sure, I'll take my parents'. Meet me downstairs in ten?" I asked, smiling genuinely at her. She tried to smile back, but it became more of a grimace. My face fell, feeling terrible that I had hurt her to the point where she couldn't even smile at me.

Maybe, if I just stopped spending time with Artie, he'd eventually dump me? But I liked having him around, I liked talking to him. I just couldn't _be_ with him. I considered my options as I walked down the hall to change, having grabbed some clothes. The dirt had found its way down my stomach, into my bra and even down my thighs, and disappearing into my panties. It got into the shower and washed off the dirt, careful not to get my hair wet.

I kept hoping that the door would open, and that I would be embraced by Santana's naked body. I hoped that she would ignore the rules, and take me in her arms. I wanted her. It was so hard, because I knew that I couldn't be the one to walk into her shower, seeing as it was I who had broken her heart. The step was hers to take, like the kiss.

Finally I gave up, running out of time, and walked out, drying my body and dressing. When I went downstairs, I found Santana sitting, her cheeks burning red and her gaze fixed on the ground. She seemed embarrassed about something, though I didn't know what. She took my bag from the hallway and handed it to me silently.

The walk back to the school was awkward and silent and the air was so tense. I tried to lace my fingers through hers, but she resisted and settled on linking our Pinkies. She I felt her look on me, but I never gazed back.

When we walked back into the school, we were met by Artie, who looked at us suspiciously.

"Brittany, can I talk to you?" he asked. I hoped that he was going to dump me. Santana released her grip on my pinky and walked away without a word.

"Sure…" I said carefully, preparing to be dumped.

"Brittany, you are cheating on me, aren't you?" he said. I shook my head, because it was true. I had cheated on him, but I wasn't anymore.

"Why do you always assume that?" I asked, pretending to be hurt. I had to play my role convincingly.

"Because you and Santana have just been at your house, and you're not wearing the same clothes" He said.

"We didn't do anything" I said truthfully. I didn't tell him that I had wished that something did.

"Then why do you have different clothes on?" he asked, as I backed into the lockers to lean against them.

"Sue had put dirt in our lockers, so our clothes were all soiled. She always has extra clothes at my place, just in case, so…" I said, carefully. I knew it was coming; that he'd retort and ask me why the clothes were always there, but he didn't. Instead, he shrugged and smiled.

"Of course, she's your best friend. Hop on, we're late for class" he said, gesturing for me to sit on his lap.

"No thanks, I think I'll walk" I said happily, the smile a mask of my disappointment. What would I have to do to get him to dump me without him finding out? I loved him, but I definitely wasn't in love with him. My heart hadn't been my own since I'd met Santana. I was unsure of how long I could keep this up.


End file.
